Page 84 of Soul Forge

“It’s necessary.”

“It’s why the demon hates us all!” she argued, the knife clattering to the counter when she finally turned to face the sixth wielder. “All everyone else has done so far is take steps to push him towards the very path you’re all so afraid of. Youforcedhim to sleep with you, Lillian. You took something from him that you had no right to take, and you have the audacity to callhima monster?”

“Because he is.” The fae shrugged, callously skirting over her own misdeeds. “Demons are monsters. That’s a fact.”

“Not this demon,” Elda answered, some of the venom leaving her voice. She remembered the day she saw him for the first time, how he’d studied her instead of attacking. She wasn’t sure exactly when the demon had gone from an ‘it’ to a ‘he,’ but she was certain he was more than just a beast. “He’s different.”

“You’re a fool.”

“I don’t think I am.” Elda’s brow furrowed. “He’s a greater demon, not lesser. He isn’t a mindless eating machine.”

“You’re right. He’s smart, and that makes him dangerous,” the fae argued.

“Reiner once told me that the really dangerous monsters are the ones who know the difference between good and evil and still choose the evil option. Sypher has neverchosenthe evil option, demon or not, and he’s had the chance to.” Her eyes narrowedat Lillian. “You, on the other hand? You went with evil. I think we both know who the real monster is.” Elda took her bread and grabbed a mango from a platter of fruit on the counter, starting to walk away.

“You’re naive,” the sixth wielder muttered, shaking her head. “You’re going to doom us all because you’re too infatuated to see what’s right in front of you. When he flips and you can’t get him back, he’ll kill you because you’re too soft to end him first. You should’ve stayed in your castle, Princess.”

“We’ll see which one of us is right when the time comes,” Elda growled.

The walk back to her room felt twice as long, her steps heavier under the weight of Lillian’s words. She’d spoken with conviction, and she’d had faith in her choice to let Sypher be a free man, but there was always the fear that she was wrong. The doubt grew from a quiet nagging to a thunderous howl by the time she was in bed. The demon soul’s promise haunted her, but her reaction frightened her more.

You liked it, that insidious voice whispered.You wanted more from him. Pulling the blankets over her head, she curled up in a ball and tried to shut it out. She could only imagine the betrayal Sypher would feel if he ever found out the truth.

Perhaps it wasn’t the demon that caused the downfall of Valerus after all. Maybe it washer.

A white-veined mountain loomed over a vast lake, its sides steep and smooth, reaching upwards to disappear beneath a blanket of clouds. Foreboding, heavy and insistent, made Elda’s heart pound like a drum. She was peering up at the summit, concealed by puffs of swirling white, drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

She blinked and found herself somewhere else, standing on an ancient, splintered mosaic of white and gold. Rivulets of red spilled from cracks in the walls, oozing down to fill a rough channel carved around the edges of the courtyard over centuries. The red river disappeared into the mountain, and she realised she stood at its summit.

Tears of blood.

The skeletons of trees still stood in their cracked planters, listening to the wind howling through gaps in the stone as their bare, petrified branches reached for a sun permanently blocked by the roof of the cavern. Their corpses lined a faded path, leading further through the courtyard and towards a darkened stone archway. It beckoned her forwards, begging her to walk through and see whatever lay beyond.

Fix what is broken.

Something horrible waited there, something painful. Elda wanted to leave, but her legs refused to stop. So, on she walked, closer and closer to that dark tunnel. Voices whispered to her, unintelligible and quiet at first but growing with each step until they reached a painful crescendo that stabbed at her eardrums.

HELP US.

She stepped through the arch.

Elda awoke with a start, chest heaving in the aftermath of her nightmare. She threw the blanket off her legs and lurched out of her room, desperate for fresh air. Her lungs felt like they’d shrivelled, and there was a metallic taste on her tongue that reminded her of the bloody river in her dream. She stumbled through the hallways until she found the garden, landing on her knees in the grass and dragging in gulps of air. Even outside, she couldn’t catch a breath. A rope was around her chest, squeezingtighter and tighter. She knew in her bones that it wouldn’t loosen unless she followed its pull.

“El?” The hand on her shoulder should have been comforting. Instead, she heard the screams of a thousand tortured souls.

HELP US.

She scrambled backwards, cringing away from the noise, and slapping her hands over her ears, shouting at the top of her lungs to try and drown it out.

“It’s alright. You’re safe.” Strong arms came around her, enveloping her in the scent of vetiver and leather. Sypher’s chest touched her back, holding her tight as she screamed at the pressing, overwhelming agony being projected right into her soul. “I’ve got you,” he said softly, not faltering when she thrashed and screamed, her nails slashing his face. His wings unfurled, curling around her as the shadows moved in to shield her from the world.

“What’s happening to me?” she sobbed, wracked with violent tremors. Sypher kept hold of her until the anguish subsided enough to breathe. He was the only thing keeping her whole when the keening in her head tried to break her apart. When it finally abated, she collapsed against him.

“I’ve got you, El.” He didn’t let go right away, sitting in the grass with his chin resting on the top of her head until the shivers slowed enough for her to sit up and turn to face him. A thin line of blood trickled from the scratch marks she’d left over his eye and cheekbone, highlighted by the moonlight when he let the shadows drop. His wings remained curled protectively around her.

“What was that?” she croaked.

“A premonition. The previous wielders have been struck with them, though usually it’s their Spirits that get them. I’ve never had a wielder receive one before.” His brow furrowed. “What did you see? You sounded like you were dying.”

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